


All Along

by yosgay



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, High School, Locked In, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 19:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10419498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yosgay/pseuds/yosgay
Summary: “I mean, just text Iggy and tell him you’re stayin’ at my place. Granted, we’ll have to either break out or spend the night in here to avoid the almighty wrath of His Highness’s chief advisor, but…” he teases, poking Noctis in the shoulder to lighten the mood. The corner of Noctis’s mouth twitches just a little like he’s fighting a smile, and Prompto’s own lopsided grin widens on his face.“It’ll be fun! Like, a sleepover or something.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> i need fluffy high school promptis like i need my next breath

Prompto hums contentedly as his eyes barely flutter open from what had to be the world’s best nap. He shifts his shoulders to sink deeper into the fluffy mattress, groping around for his blanket to get more comfortable and maybe fall back asleep - when his hand instead comes to rest on a fluffy head of styled hair, and he hears Noctis’s sleepy groan of protest next to him. 

His eyes shoot open when he abruptly realizes that no, this isn’t his mattress, this isn’t his _house_ , and he tries to get up from the school library’s hot pink beanbag chair so fast that he loses his balance and falls right back into it. 

_Oh, shit._

“ _Noct_?” he says, shoving the arm of the sleeping prince next to him, panicking the more awake he gets and the more his brain catches up to what’s happening. He fumbles for his phone, and blanches when he reads the time. Five o’clock. Meaning, they fell asleep for two hours. And the library closes at four. _And there’s no one else in here._ Prompto looks around the dark room from the secluded little corner (maybe a little _too_ secluded, thank you very much) where they were studying, and kicks Noctis’s shoe to wake him up.

He grunts and starts with an annoyed hiss of _what, Prompto,_ before his eyes widen and Noctis wakes up faster than he’s ever seen in the years they’ve known each other, gripping Prompto’s wrist in his hand like a vice, eyes wide as he croaks, “ _what the hell time is it?_ ”

\---

Doors, locked. Windows, locked. Pipes and vents to crawl out of like those stealth games they play at Noct's apartment - nowhere to be found. They’ve checked every inch of the place for any way to get the hell out without calling anyone and getting themselves in an avalanche of trouble, and have had no luck at all. 

Noctis, of course, gave up the second he checked the time.

“We could… I dunno… read?” Prompto says half-heartedly, spreading his arms helplessly in gesture to the ample material they have in here if they were so inclined, in a last-ditch effort to get Noctis’s hands unstuck from his face. The answering scoff is so comically loud and offended that Prompto has to stifle a laugh behind his arm.

“ _Read_?” Noctis says, muffled, and throws his head up, dragging his fingers down his cheeks. “Prompto, I’ll be surprised if Ignis doesn’t have half the royal guard breaking down the doors in a matter of minutes. And,” he holds up a finger when Prompto opens his mouth to speak, “if we survive that, he’ll probably personally have Gladio strangle me _and_ _you_ for falling asleep in the middle of studying for exams, _which_ , by the way, are in just _two days_ , and if he finds out how behind I am in this stupid reading, he’ll -“ 

Prompto grabs Noctis by the shoulders and shakes him out of his babbling, trying not to laugh again. “ _Dude_ ,” he says, “seriously, you gotta calm down. You’re gonna give yourself a premature heart attack if you don’t chill out, bro.”

Noctis levels him with a glare, and then goes back to furiously rubbing his eyes like they’re what’s standing between him and the key out of here. Or, at least, getting back some semblance of his cool.

“Didn't realize you were this stressed out about it, man,” Prompto frowns, rubbing the back of his neck, then shrugs a shoulder. “I mean, just text Iggy and tell him you’re stayin’ at my place. Granted, we’ll have to either break out or spend the night in here to avoid the almighty wrath of His Highness’s chief advisor, but…” he teases, poking Noctis in the shoulder to lighten the mood. The corner of Noctis’s mouth twitches just a little like he’s fighting a smile, and Prompto’s own lopsided grin widens on his face. 

“It’ll be fun! Like, a sleepover or something,” Prompto says, nudging Noctis with his elbow. Noct throws him a skeptical look, but doesn’t protest. “C’mon, I mean, we can still play King’s Knight, right? And we both still have some lunch left over,” he shrugs, eyes alight. “S’not so bad, eh?”

\---

After exhausting all their coins in King's Knight and pawing through all the readable material this place has to offer (which, as it turns out, is all of about one single magazine with a find-the-hidden-shapes game), they find themselves sitting on the railing of the second floor, dangling their feet and looking down at the dark room below. It’s bigger than Prompto ever noticed - not that he spends much time in the library. He never really came here at all before being friends with Noctis. 

There’s lot of things he never did before being friends with Noctis.

“So, Prom,” Noctis says, crossing and uncrossing his feet.

“So, Noct,” he parrots back with a cheeky smile.

Noctis exhales a laugh through his nose and bumps his shoulder into Prompto’s, who squawks in surprise and grips the railing tightly with both hands to keep his balance. “Hey, watch it! This thing isn’t exactly a pillar of stability, y’know,” he says in mock annoyance.

Noctis chuckles, and falls silent and contemplative for a few beats. He hums a note, and then says, out of nowhere, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Prompto freezes. Something about that phrase weighs a hundred pounds no matter the context, and makes his mind race, opening up his mental filing cabinet and pawing through the contents to predict and prepare for whatever this could possibly be about. He suddenly feels the need to prepare himself for a Serious Conversation with the Future King of Lucis, feeling the whole atmosphere between them shift with that simple sentence.

Or, maybe he’s just being dramatic. He turns slightly towards Noctis and tries to keep the burning curiosity out of his voice when he speaks, lightly nervous laughter bubbling through the words. “Y-yeah? What’s that?”

Noctis takes a deep breath, anxiously fidgeting with the hem on the end of his tie, looking very shy. Prompto doesn’t quite know what to make of it, so he looks away, feeling like he’s somehow intruding on a private moment of consideration. Which doesn’t make any sense, but neither does the heat in his cheeks, or the way his heart speeds up just a little.

“You, um,” Noct starts, faltering. “You know that dance that's coming up?" 

Now _that_ sets his pulse off. Prompto perks up immediately, his voice pitched high with nerves and a dozen undrawn conclusions, heat steadily rising unbidden in his cheeks. "Yeah? What uh," he clears his throat slightly, "what about it?"

"Are you gonna ask Cindy?" Noctis blurts out, a little too loudly in the dark cavernous room, sounding even louder in contrast to how softly he’s been speaking this whole time, and they both inwardly wince. Prompto's brows furrow in confusion. That’s - wait. If Noct just wants to know if he's got a date, why's he so nervous? Why're they both blushing?

"Eh..." Prompto says on the exhale, twisting his bangs around his index finger and swinging his legs. "Thought about it. She's cool and all, and I do like her, but... nah," he says dejectedly, leaving it at that. The whole, miles out of his league thing, stays unsaid. "But, is that really what you wanted to ask me? What're you all nervous for, buddy?" he quips, bumping their feet together as they sway.

Noctis's eyes flick to his quickly, then away, pink up to his ears. Prompto tries to look away but it wipes the wry smile clean off his face as he's absolutely fascinated, the now stark blush bringing out the icy gray-blue of his eyes and the few freckles on his face. Prompto swallows hard. Then his face falls when he remembers the date - a Friday afternoon, when Noct's got his weekly Princely duties to attend to, and that he probably can’t go.

“Oh wait, dude - isn’t that on a Friday?” 

Noctis tilts his head in a question, then realization dawns and his shoulders deflate. “Oh. Right,” he intones, rubbing his eyes again. “The meetings, that’s right. Guess I… can’t make it.”

Prompto’s at a bit of a loss. He didn’t expect Noctis to be so disappointed. He’s never really been one for school functions aside from the required ones, and _dances_ \- isn’t he too cool for those, or something? It must be because - “you planning on taking a hot date, there, buddy?” Prompto jokes, but lets it drop like a sack of chocobo feed when Noctis doesn’t laugh back. “Wait really, were you?” 

Noctis looks away quickly, and Prompto’s shoulders go a little tense. Of course, there are always girls after Noctis. There have been for the whole time he’s known him, to the point where Prompto’s actually gotten a little jealous. But Noct’s never taken any interest in them, as far as he can tell. He hasn’t said anything about any girl. Would he? He definitely would - they’re best friends, after all. 

“That’s - that’s not it,” Noct sighs. “Whatever. Probably wouldn’t be my scene anyway.”

"Aw, no fun, Noct!" Prompto pouts, swiping at his arm. "How come you've never been to one before, anyway? They're great."

"Great, huh?" Noctis says with a wry smile, eyes alight with something like mischief. "Show me some moves then, hot shot."

Noct's probably just joking, but, never one to back out of a challenge, Prompto hops off the railing and moves to the center of the upstairs alcove, strutting dramatically and throwing a look over his shoulder he goes. "Thought you'd never ask."

Prompto’s actually not the worst dancer in the world - he does a mean robot, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t spent at least more than one afternoon trying to become the world’s best breakdancer in his living room. Kip-ups had taken him a few weeks, but he got them down and is happy to show off - they look a lot more impressive than they are. 

He busts out a few of his better moves for his audience, complete with a poorly executed worm and at least half of the cotton-eyed joe - and even the better ones probably suck because he can’t stop laughing. He knows he looks ridiculous and would be more embarrassed, but Noct’s cracking up and his good mood is back, and Prompto knows that he’d do all this and then some in front of the whole damn school if it’d cheer Noct up.

"Hm, not bad," Noctis says, appraising, as he claps sarcastically. "Maybe for the club, Blondie. But what about the slow songs?" he counters. "Most of the music at dances is that mellow romantic crap. What're you gonna to do when your date wants to slow dance?"

“Uh, dude, what am I hearing here?” Prompto says, one hand on his hip and one cupping his ear in mock offense. “Are you questioning the master?”

Noctis snorts and rolls his eyes. "Master of the lamest dance moves this side of Eos."

"Wh- Noct, you wound me!" he says, theatrically clutching his chest. "And hey, if you're so sure of yourself, why not show _me_ how it's done, _Your Majesty_ ," he bows low and sarcastic, picking his head up at the last second to grin widely at his best friend.

\---

They must _really_ be bored, because they end up moving some tables out of the way in the middle of the dark library, making room for Prompto to _properly_ impress the prince. Noctis isn’t sulking anymore, thankfully, watching him clear them a proper space with a subtly amused look on his face. When Prompto’s content with his work, he walks right up to Noctis, completely ignoring his nerves and convincing himself that the joke hasn’t gone too far. Noct asked for this, after all. And honestly, what the hell - what else is there to do, anyway.

Noctis raises his eyebrows and chuckles a little as Prompto starts arranging his limbs like he’s a doll.

"Now you put your hands _there_ ," Prompto says, grabbing a very pliant Noct's arms and placing them around his shoulders. "And they'll put their hands _here_ ," he says, fitting his own hands to his hips, with just the slightest hesitation. "And then, you sort of just..."

They sway awkwardly for a few steps without any music, Noctis snorting before Prompto huffs a frustrated noise and pulls his phone out. He makes a few deliberate taps on the screen, and then sweet, mellow instrumental music fills the space between them. Prompto fits his hands back in place, and they start to move again, albeit stiffly - but with more of a rhythm this time.

"No twirls or dips," Prompto warns. "You're _definitely_ not ready for that yet, mister robot arms. And try not to fall in love with me,” he says coolly, winking and flipping his hair to cut the slight tension, and Noct snorts. “Relax, dude. Reeelax.” (And if he's saying that to himself just as much as Noct, well - there's no way to be sure.)

Noctis's brow quirks just slightly before he smiles and laughs quietly again, almost to some private joke, before visibly relaxing. Prompto can feel the difference in the weight on his shoulders, the prince no longer holding himself so rigidly. He wraps his arms a little more tightly, a light flush creeping up his cheeks as something clicks and their bodies seem to _fit_ , just like that.

"Thanks for the tips,” he says, voice pitched low and airy.

Prompto's mouth is suddenly dry. He feels extremely self-conscious this close to Noctis, and bites the inside of his cheek against the instinct to pull away and laugh this whole thing off. He’s about ten seconds from doing just that, thinking that maybe this is getting weird and he shouldn’t have taken the thing so far, when Noct bites his lip, staring directly into his eyes, open and vulnerable and _right there_ , and Prompto’s mind half blanks out.

"So that’s, uh… that’s how you'd do it," Prompto forces himself to say after a stretch of silence longer than Noct’s entire damn lineage, voice barely a whisper with how close their faces have gotten. He’s trying not to shrink away under those steely blue eyes but he’s suddenly hyperaware of every single blemish and freckle that he’s ever had on his face in his whole life, and of the fact that Noctis probably has access to every skin-care product this side of Lucis - and it _shows_. He’s godsdamn glowing. His index finger twitches for his camera, and he aches to be safely tucked behind it.

His hands must be scalding Noctis's hips, his whole body an inferno - and he’d be worried about their shaking - but Noct’s forearms on his shoulders are just as bad, damn near vibrating where they're clasped behind his neck. 

"And," Noctis breathes, "how do you normally, ah, end it?" Prompto can almost feel the words more than hear them, Noctis's profile just inches away, taking up the whole of his vision. Prompto forgets to answer for a second, forgets to _breathe_ , because he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone so beautiful before in his whole life. For the love of the Six, where'd he put his camera?

"Well," he starts, when he remembers himself, and wets his lips as a rush of adrenaline overtakes his better judgement. _Just go with it, Prompto._ "If I were your date, I'd, probably..." He trails off when he realizes they're both moving ever so slowly closer, noses almost brushing and a loose hair from Noctis's unruly bangs tickling his cheek.

"Yeah?" Noctis barely breathes, an ever-impressive shade of pink, eyes flicking from Prompto’s to his lips and back again. Prompto’s face is so damn hot that he can't even feel it anymore. His body moves on instinct, one hand sliding up from Noctis's hip to cup his cheek and feeling every single millimeter, and he almost has to stop at the sharp intake of breath, the look of absolute awe on the prince’s face - directed at _him,_ of all people. 

He’s got a thousand thoughts in the works about about how he’s nobody and Noct’s _everybody,_ and is he even allowed to stand this close to the Prince of Lucis? His mind’s a beehive of legal jargon mixed with a dangerous cocktail of adrenaline and anxiety - and then Noct closes the distance.

It’s such a small kiss, chaste and barely a brush of their lips, but Prompto’s heart is hammering so loud he probably wouldn’t even hear it if the whole Crownsguard broke down the door that same moment. It lasts a second, or a year, Prompto doesn’t fucking know, all that matters is that as soon as it’s over, he’s about a thousand percent sure he’d give his left arm and some of the arguably more important parts of his brain to do it again. When they pull away, Noct’s eyes are half-closed, and he looks like an angel with the setting sun filtering through the blinds, his hair and face glowing in the soft light, and Prompto can’t even _move_.

So instead, he kind of just… crumples to the floor. 

He distantly hears Noctis laughing as he slips through his arms, an incredulous and absolutely _melodious_ sound that Prompto wants to swim in and never come up for air, and he tries to remember to breathe evenly as Noct lies down next to him where he's now sprawled on the mottled carpet. He keeps his eyes screwed shut because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to look at Noctis for the next century if he doesn’t wanna jump out of his own skin and suffocate them both, so he musters the last bit of courage he’s got in the world and paws around until he finds his hand, boldly twining their fingers together.

Noctis has mercifully stopped laughing, but he barely even seems surprised at this turn of events, and as they lay there together, shoulders barely brushing and fingers twiddling together, Prompto purses his lips as he realizes something he should have figured out about twenty minutes ago. 

He lets it stew, giving his best friend the benefit of the doubt, until the pieces start to come together like one of those stupid jigsaw puzzles Ignis and Gladio always say they’re meeting up to do.

“Hey Noct?” Prompto says, half-muffled by his arm over his face to hide the stupid damn blush that won’t seem to go away.

“Hm?”

“You’re the prince,” he says slowly.

“Nice observation,” Noctis deadpans.

“No, The _Prince,_ ” Prompto says again, illustrating his point with a wave of one arm above his head before it goes back to hiding him from the world, “of Lucis. Who goes to royal parties. In the _ballroom_.”

Prompto peeks up at him from under his arm with his eyes narrowed as Noctis leans up on one elbow, pursing his lips like he’s trying hard hide a shit-eating grin.

“ _Noct!_ ” he squawks indignantly, face growing somehow even _hotter_ as Noctis gives up and laughs again, a full and ringing belly-laugh that’s just as contagious as it is beautiful. He rolls over and untangles their fingers only to take Prompto’s face into his hands and kiss him sweetly, still giggling into his lips, and Prompto’s about to die because how can he just _do_ that, until they break and he realizes that Noctis’s face is just as red as his probably is. And even though this was probably his plan, at least it helps to know that Noct’s just as nervous as he is.

And he’s a godsdamn wreck.

“Yeah, Prompto, I can dance,” he says, cheeky and clearly proud of himself, and Prompto tries to glare, but it probably doesn’t have much of an effect over his tomato-red cheeks. Noctis’s thumb traces slow sweeping lines over his chin and Prompto can’t keep his eyes off of him, or find the will enough to even be _mad_ , and so, instead, he leans in hard. 

There’s no finesse at all, too much teeth and not enough tongue. Clearly neither of them have much experience under their belts, but when has that ever stopped anybody? They take their time at first, the scratchy carpet rubbing their elbows raw as they try to stay propped up, and then give up comfort completely in favor of laying there and seeing just how close two bodies can get before the damn laws of physics have to step in. 

Prompto has forgotten about their tests this week and how bad they really do need to study - _who needs school, anyway_ \- and if Noct hasn’t, he sure is hiding it well. It’s probably been hours or years since they dove into each other, Prompto’s body temperature slowly ramping up to something he’s sure is feverish, and he doesn’t think he’s taken a single full breath in long enough to blame the dizziness on. 

Or, maybe he’s just a little drunk on Noct. The fact that he doesn’t even wanna roll his eyes at how lame that thought was is probably a good indication. He’s an absolute wreck - they both are.

They’re still kissing there on the floor, sweet and slow long since turned frantic and needy when the Crownsguard does, in fact, break down the doors of the library, with Ignis _and_ Gladio at the forefront. And as everyone in the room stops dead in their tracks and shares the most awkward moment of any of their lives, the two boys, disheveled and (almost) too blissed out to care that they’re definitely grounded for the rest of eternity, realize at the same time that Noctis never actually _did_ send that text to Ignis.

**Author's Note:**

> and ignis and gladio were arrested for murder later that day,


End file.
